


Snapdragon

by Grimmseye



Series: Vampire/Hunter Blups [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Barry and Kravitz are partners, F/M, Mild Smut, Open Ending, Vampire Hunters, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 09:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16194329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimmseye/pseuds/Grimmseye
Summary: It's! Halloween!This will probably have a sequel or two. There are some threads that need tying and conflict that needs resolving. But for now, please let me know what you think!





	Snapdragon

She’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and that should have told him everything.

It didn’t, though. It doesn’t. He sees her, day after day, and he sees the beauty not just in the curls of her hair or the onyx tone of her eyes, but the messy splash of freckles across her face, sunkissed, the way her shoulders shake when she laughs, how her smiles are always just a little bit crooked on the right side of her face. Barry is taken by her, a heart thumping too fast to color his cheeks with his blood, and when she guides him to the edge he falls fast.

They meet in the crosswalk. Rainy day, red umbrella. She’s looking down, he’s glancing up, he knocks her askew and she’s soaked within the second. A blustering of apologies, a hand up, he takes her to the nearest coffee shop and treats her to a hot drink, they talk, they laugh, and when Barry realizes he needs to _go,_ he hesitates. She’s the one who takes the jump, offering her number on a napkin with a scrawling heart and three letters written above: _Lup._

It’s not perfect, but he thinks she just might be.

 

* * *

  


Kravitz is a young man. Barry is not. It doesn’t stop either of them, though — it’s not the sort of job one can just step out of, sticking knives into the throats of monsters.

He may be younger, but there’s no denying that Kravitz is _good_ at what he does, and Barry is more than willing to cede authority to him. Barry’s not the leader type, regardless. He likes the sidelines, likes to draft plans and watch them unfurl where Kravitz loves the rush of things. It’s what makes them a pretty good team.

There’s no denying that they don’t look like they belong together. Barry’s clad in bluejeans and a button-down, Kravitz has pulled out a suit. _How_ he keeps affording those things when they come away bloody every time is beyond him, but he figures that’s what comes of being the Queen’s favorite knight. Someday he should request a new set of knives, see if maybe benefits extend to the favorite’s right hand. It’s a day far in the future, though — the blade in his grip is sharp, and he’s got enough strength to force it between someone’s ribs, no need to fix what isn’t broken.

They don’t exchange words, only a glance. This bounty is a pricey one: Magic Brian, specializing in the rather vile market of blood trade. He’s also the sort that can manipulate animals — spiders, specifically, which while Barry’s got no problem finding an arachnid in his room, a swarm of them begins to cross a line. Crosses it about ten times over, actually.

It’s fine though, because beautiful Lup told him how to craft a homemade flamethrower. Funny, gorgeous, smart, Barry can feel his own dopey smile crossing his face before Kravitz gives him a sharp nudge.

“Focus,” he sniffs, accent in place, and Barry is halfway to sticking his tongue out before remembering he’s a fully grown adult. His tongue flicks back into his mouth, but the roll of Kravitz’s eyes tells him he’d already seen it.

“I’m focusing,” Barry sighs. “Just get ready. Some poor saps tried to target him just a few nights ago — did _not_ work out for them. Brian’s bound to be on guard.”

Kravitz gives an acknowledging hum, eyes fixed on the door. If things go according to plan, they’ll be able to get the drop as their target leaves his meeting. Impale the heart, cut the head, call the cleanup crew that’s stationed nearby.

Things _never_ go as planned, but Barry’s trying out this cool new thing called _optimism._ Like, at least if things go horribly wrong, it’ll bring him and Kravitz closer together as friends. Positive thinking is the way to go.

The handle turns. Both of them freeze, breath still in their chests as the door swings open. And then Kravitz springs.

 

* * *

  


Lup, he learns, makes the most _beautiful_ noises when he sucks bruises onto her skin.

His mouth is braced against the junction of her shoulder, a hand tangled in her hair to pull her head back. She likes rough treatment, too, and when he tightens that grip, the whimper she makes has him _burning._

He parts with a wet sound, admiring the bloom of red on her skin before latching onto a new spot. His tongue and teeth work over her skin, and Lup squirms in his lap, panting, a whine of _“Barry,”_ making his arm tighten around her back. He can feel her pressing against his belly, trying and failing to restrain herself as she rolls her hips against him.

When he eases her down onto her back, she goes, willing and bright-eyed. Her hair fans out, messy on the pillow, chest swelling with each breath. She’s so breathtakingly gorgeous that he’d be worried he’s been charmed if not for the sharp clarity of his thoughts.

“What’cha thinking about up there, babe?” She asks, voice full of breath. “I can see those cogs turning.”

Barry smiles. “Sorry,” he says, lowering himself to begin kissing his way down her belly. He pauses just above the lace of her panties, a hand at her hip to feel the way she trembles. When he lifts his eyes, he finds hers hooded and dark, lips parted. A grin plays on his lips. He echoes her: “What’cha thinking about?”

Lup groans, and he laughs, and then that sound turns high-pitched and needy as Barry draws his tongue over her through the red satin of her underwear. “ _Tease,”_ she accuses.

Barry doesn’t even try to defend himself. It’s the truth, and his mouth is occupied regardless.

Later, she’ll be returning his treatment, mouthing along the line of his neck while Barry’s got a hand fisted in the sheets. It makes his heart _pound,_ a deep-instilled wariness overridden completely by the heat of her mouth against his throat. Her fingers tighten, where she’d been holding his hand she’s suddenly pushing it down into the mattress as though to pin him down there, her teeth braced on his skin and he’s gasping, arching up against her —

She relaxes her jaw and pushes a kiss to his skin. Eases back to straddle him, a funny smile on her face. “You liked that, huh?” Lup murmurs, tucking a lock of hair back into place behind her shoulder.

“...More than I’d expect,” Barry admits, giving a laugh, and Lup smiles back.

Despite what he’d said, she doesn’t do it again.

 

* * *

  


“There is,” Kravitz says, “a bounty. _Biiiig_ ol’ bounty. Lots of good money for this one. Or, _these_ ones.”

Barry doesn’t look up. He’s tapping out the notes from a game Lup had been playing, something quick but melancholic that he hadn’t been able to get out of his head. “What is it?” He asks. The next note — half step up, _there,_ that sounds right, what comes after —

“A pair of twins, boy and a girl, look nearly identical. Vampires, of course, and _old_ ones at that. They’re highly dangerous — every hunter that’s gone on their case has disappeared.”

That _does_ catch Barry’s attention. He stills his fingers, turning on the bench to finally take a look at the binder Kravitz is holding. A skim-through has a low whistle sounding from his lips. “All the physical descriptions contradict each other.” He frowns. “How the hell is anyone making connections?”

“There’s a pattern.” Kravitz sits down beside him, turning the pages. “They find a new place, settle down. A few people go missing, a few bodies show up, they move onto the next one. And it sounds like all of the victims went to them willingly.”

“You think they were charmed?” Barry purses his lips. Different vampires have different abilities — shapeshifting, daywalking, levitation, communicating with a gods damned swarm of black widows. All of them can _charm,_ but for the most part that’s harmless. Any hunter worth his their stakes can shrug off a thrall — for the most part.

But Kravitz shrugs. “It’s difficult to say. Unfortunately, most of the reports come from second hand sources, strung together. _But,_ the Queen believes they’ve settled down here. And she wants me to take care of them.”

Back to work, then. He’ll have to warn Lup he’s going to be a bit more sporadic for a while. “You know, boss," he sighs, "I love working with you cause you’re a damn good hunter. I also really, _really_ hate that.”

“Am I supposed to call you on your bullshit, here?” Kravitz gives him a thin, but genuine smile. “If we didn’t give you a challenge, you’d get bored, and the concept of _you_ and _boredom_ is… what’s the right word here? _Horrifying_.”

Barry flips back to the beginning of the report with a scoff. “That was _one time —”_

_“One time is more than enough to find human remains in the fridge, Barold.”_

“I bought it legally.”

“And then you _il-_ legally put it next to my leftovers! You’ve _ruined_ my favorite curry for me, _ruined.”_

 _“You’ve ruined my favorite curry for me,”_ Barry mocks. “We cut out hearts for a living, gimme a _break.”_ Still, he’s laughing, and Kravitz has a smirk of his own as he cuffs Barry over the head. The two of them shift from the piano to the table — yet another benefit of rooming with the Queen’s favorite: he gets a _house,_ not just an apartment. How and where she gets this kind of money, Barry has no idea. He tries not to think about it most days.

They spread out the papers, organizing them, opening their own, fresh notes, and they get to work.

 

* * *

  


Kravitz is out of the house the first time Barry brings Lup over. Several _months_ of dating is probably far too long to excuse that, but it’s a result of forgetting to put his shit away for that same amount of time. He’s not about to take his girlfriend home when there are knives out on the table and bloody clothes in the hamper.

She whistles when she sees his place. It’s pretty out of the way, and it’s pretty big, too. “ _Damn,”_ she says. “No offense, babe, but your place isn’t haunted, right?”

“Not that I’m aware,” Barry says, a laugh in his voice.

“And you’re not a serial killer? You have to tell me or it’s entrapment.”

“I think it’s more than entrapment.” Barry grins, and Lup puffs out a disdainful breath.

“Avoiding the question, I see,” she mutters, squinting at him. “I’m onto you, Bluejeans.”

He definitely better hope she doesn’t find his knives, then. They’re stashed pretty safely in Kravitz’s drawer, so at least if some horrible twist of fate _does_ occur, he can blame it on his roommate. Optimism, Barry learned, is hard, and also stupid. Anxiously overcompensating for all possibilities, _that_ is the way to go.

Barry unlatches the gate to wave her inside. There’s a little cobblestone pathway, some coarsely-branched trees where the ravens like to roost. Snapdragons sway in the breeze, tall stalks with bright flowers against the darkness of this stormy day. Lup does a full-body turn as she looks around, brows raised. “I know I said it before, but, _damn._ Why the hell have we been in my little two-bedroom this whole time?”

A hand goes to the back of his neck, a sheepish grin. “I kept forgetting to clean,” he admits, and Lup laughs. “Just to, uh, clarify, this isn’t really _mine_. My roommate’s, uh, mom? Owns the place. He sort of helps run her business and I’m his partner, so…” Barry waves a hand about the area.

“Oh I am _not_ complaining,” Lup grins. “You've seen my place, this is _novel._ Gimme the grand tour!”

The _grand tour_ halts almost immediately, in the living room, the second Lup sees his piano and slides onto the bench. “This yours or your roomie’s?” She asks, and then sweeps her hand across the keys with a dramatic flourish.

“Both of ours, but I’m the only one who plays it regularly,” Barry says, taking a seat beside her. Lup takes her hands off the keys, scoots to let him center himself as Barry shuffles a few of the sheets around.

He doesn’t try to show off — there are a few pages of sheet music that look terrifyingly cluttered, but he goes for one with a pattern. Something that sounds nice, but is _doable,_ so his fingers won’t stumble over the keys. Lup is quiet as she listens, leaning into his side, her warmth distracting as he tries to focus on the keys.

She turns her head. Her lips push against his neck and Barry’s fingers slip, hitting a whole step off and then freezing. She pulls back with a cackle. “Sorry,” she grins, looking entirely unapologetic. “It sounds great! Remind me to bring my violin next time, we can jam.”

Barry’s eyes light up at that. Lup’s grin softens into a smile, and she leans in to catch his lips.

They don’t go far, as Lup stretches her arms over her head and stands up. “Hey, your boy isn’t here, is he? Cause it’d be a hell of an introduction for him to meet me with my bra off.”

He huffs out a laugh, says, “No, you should be good. I told him you’re coming over regardless, so he’ll warn me when he’s coming back, but knowing him, he’ll be out all night.”

Lup gives a hum. Something about her seems to shift, though, the warmth in her eyes fading by degrees. Barry cocks his head, hesitating a moment before asking, “You alright?”

She blinks. Then smiles, nods. “Oh, yeah, I’m peachy! Taako forgot to call last night ‘s all. And like, he’s a big boy, he can take care of himself. Can’t help but worry, though.”

“He’s your brother,” Barry says, like that explains it. He doesn’t have any siblings to worry about, though, and he’s pretty sure Kravitz is too stubborn to die, so it's not like he can _relate_. It doesn't mean he doesn't feel his own pang of concern. “You try calling him?”

“Sent a text,” she shrugs. “It’s fine. It’s fine! He does this all the time, probably just messing around with a boy again. He acts real aloof but he’s kind of insecure about his lovelife.” The last words are spoken in a whisper, as though sharing a secret. “Do _not_ tell him I said that.”

Barry swears himself to secrecy, and Lup doesn’t seem to want to continue the subject much further after that. Due for a change in conversation, there’s an embarrassing moment when he offers to figure out dinner, and then realizes their fridge is empty, and then offers to _order_ dinner instead. He gets an extra order of curry for Kravitz.

 

* * *

  


Barry’s phone starts to ring at three in the morning.

Lup wakes with him, the two of them roused by the shrill chime of his phone. Lup grumbles — _who the fuck’s callin’ ya, babe_ — but Barry is quick to snatch it off the nightstand. He already knows who it is.

“What’s goin’ on?” He asks, voice hurried and tainted by sleep.

Heavy pants fill his ear. _“Need a pickup,”_ Kravitz rasps. _“I’m down on thirteenth, first aid kit’d be appreciated —”_

“Hang on, I’m on my way.”

Lup sits upright as Barry gets out of bed. He grabs his shirt and his jeans off the floor, hurrying to pull them on as she goes, “Bear, what’s going on?”

“My roommate got in trouble,” Barry mutters. “I’m real sorry, I gotta get him right now —”

“Hey, it’s fine, I get it.” Lup slides out of bed. “You want company?”

She is. _The_ most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, inside and out. But he says, “I can’t, I'm sorry. It’ll freak him out. Promise I’ll make it up to you, Lup, but I —”

“Barry.” She cups his jaw, silencing him. “It’s _fine._ Go get your boy.”

Barry gives her a nervous, apologetic smile, and then he’s rushing down the stairs and out the door. There’s a kit already in their car, a stash of stakes and even a hatchet if he needs it. He’d _super_ rather not, though. Chopping through the neck is messy business.

He doesn’t need any of that. Kravitz is alone when he finds him, shirt off and bunched up between his jaw and his shoulder. He’s collapsed against the wet alley wall, breath shallow. There’s a bloody knife at his side, but no vampire — they’d run instead of finishing him off, thank the gods.

His eyes flutter as Barry drops to his knees, a tension that goes out of him the second he recognizes who’s there.

“Hey, buddy, I’ve gotcha.” Barry pulls the bundled shirt away, the material sticking to Kravitz's skin by drying, gummed-up blood. He unscrews a water bottle to pour it over his neck, wiping the blood away until he has clean enough access to the wound — it’s not just a bite, it’s a _tear,_ either an attempt to kill him or an accident in a struggle. Either way, someone had gotten their fangs in him.

Barry pours antiseptic over both the wound and his own hands, unmoved as Kravitz hisses. It turns to a shout when Barry clasps his hand soundly over the still-bleeding skin, holding tight.

The sensation of channeling this type of magic is never pleasant. He grits his teeth, feeling pain cutting into his own neck, the skin opening and blood bubbling out his half-torn flesh. In response, he can feel the skin of Kravitz’s neck knitting itself back up, not a complete heal the same way Barry’s isn’t a completed wound. A transfer of wounds, pain in exchange for healing, that's all he can do. It’ll be enough to safely bandage Kravitz up and get him home.

Lup is gone when they arrive. Understandable, she probably hadn’t wanted to deal with that fallout. It makes it easy to prop Kravitz up in a kitchen chair and get some sugar in him, rest and recovery before the full interrogation.

“Got a call from another hunter,” Kravitz murmurs to him, arms folded on the table and head laid on top of them. “They’d gotten in a scrap… tracked him down to try to finish the job. He must’ve lost a lot of blood, ‘s practically feral, attacked me…”

Nothing out of the ordinary, then. Not great that they had a starved vampire running through the city streets, he’d need to spread the word. “Alright, let’s get you washed up,” Barry sighs, rising from his seat.

Kravitz lifts his head, letting Barry help him up to support him up the stairs and to the bathroom. He sits on the edge of the bathtub while Barry wipes the rest of the blood off his chest, a routine they’ve gone through a few dozen times before. His eyes are bleary, his breaths deep and slow. They'll probably need to call a proper healer in the morning.

“There’s one more thing,” Kravitz mumbles. “The call… says they’d been tracking this vampire for a while.” His eyes are shut, at this point just going where Barry directs him, onto his feet and down the hall towards his room. “They think… might be two of them.”

Barry draws in a slow breath. “Those twins?”

“Maybe.” Kravitz’s head bobs as he tries to lift it. “I —”

“We can talk about it later,” Barry interrupts. “You’re barely coherent, just get some rest right now.”

Kravitz gives a mumble of assent, and Barry supports him into bed before headed to his own room. He pulls out his phone as he does, intending to send an apology and reassurance to Lup, finding she’s already sent him a text.

_L: lmk when youre home safe, B_

He smiles, taps out his response:

_B: It’s all good. Got him home, he’s sleeping now. Sorry about that_

Lup responds after only a few minutes.

_L: like I said, its no problem. gotta look out for your boy_

_B: Yeah but i still wanna make it up to you_

_L: well i defo won’t say no to a sincere apology ;)_

A grin tugs at his face reading that, a blush warming his cheeks.

_B: It’s a bit late for this, but please remind me that I owe you at a later date_

_L: will do, babe <3 _

He’s in the middle of a messy situation, but there are things to look forward to, at least. He holds onto that thought as he settles back down to sleep.

 

* * *

  


The city’s hunters are on alert. Lup is distractible at best, Taako's still missing. Barry’s own concern grows, not just for the brother of his girlfriend, but for _his_ friend. Taako’s a decent guy. Difficult at first, not harsh but _distant_ , until a day where Barry asked about his cooking and Taako launched into an entire tirade on his craft, looking brighter and happier than he’d ever allowed himself within Barry’s view.

And when the conversation tapered off, he’d cursed and said, _“Damn it. I fucking_ like _you? What the hell.”_

Taako isn’t just _Lup’s brother_ to him, and the news that he’s gone missing leaves a heavy pit in his stomach. “When’d you hear from him last?” He asks, phone tucked up between his shoulder and his ear.

 _“A few nights ago?”_ Her voice is strained. He’s never heard her so _vulnerable_ before, wishes desperately that he could be where she is. “He was just going to a bar, y’know, find a boy to take him home.”

No texts, no calls. Attempts to call _him_ went immediately to voicemail. Barry pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing shut. “Have you gone to the police?”

 _“I can’t.”_ The answer is immediate. _“I know, Barry, I know how that sounds, but you really gotta trust me when I say I_ can’t _—”_

And the despair in her voice is so heavy that he says, “Okay, okay. No police. Do you know _which_ bar he was going to? If he’s a regular, maybe someone saw him.”

He can hear Lup’s breath, shaking over the line. _“That — yeah, that’s a good idea. He — he went to Redcheek’s. He’s not a regular, but he stands out, y’know? He’s hard to ignore.”_ A watery sounding laugh wrenches his heart.

“Okay, that’s a start. How about the two of us head over there tonight?” He’ll bring Kravitz, too, better than Barry at the talking and questioning.

There’s a pause. Then, _“Actually, Barry, I can’t tonight. It’s… fuck. I — I know that sounds_ horrible _, but I —”_

“Don’t worry about it,” Barry hurries to say. It doesn’t sit well in his brain, but he’s more worried about getting Lup to calm down. Maybe she has a lead of her own — apart of the reason she can’t go to the police. “Just… take care of yourself, okay? And tell me whenever you need, or, or just _want_ me there, okay?”

_“Mm-hmm. I will. … I love you, Barry. Stay safe.”_

A breath drags out of him. “Love you, too,” he murmurs. “And I will. You too. I’ll keep my phone on.”

They end the call after that, Barry left to brace his palm heavy against his forehead. He shuts his eyes, just forcing himself to _breathe_ for a few moments. Then he pushes himself to his feet, climbing the stairs to knock once and enter Kravitz’s bedroom.

Kravitz, as expected, is pouring over his books. He’s well on his feet, a visit from a healer putting him back in the game. He glances up at Barry, raising expectant brows.

“You got any leads?” Barry asks.

“Nothing yet.” His voice is frustrated. “I’ve got every hunter in the city out looking for him and there’s _nothing.”_

Barry nods. Good. Bad, actually, but good that he’ll have his partner tonight. “Alright. Well, I _might._ When you found that vampire, were you anywhere nears Redcheek’s bar?”

There’s a pause as Kravitz mulls it over. Then, a nod. “I think so. Thirteenth street, so that's... just a few blocks away. What’s going on?” He stands up straight.

“Lup’s brother, Taako, went missing. Last anyone saw him, he was headed there. It could be a coincidence, but…” Barry licks his lips, then shakes his head. If what he’s thinking is correct… he’s not sure if that’s better or worse.

“You think he got attacked.” It’s a statement, not a question. Barry nods, and Kravitz clicks his tongue. “It seems a little too close to home, but it’s the best we’ve got. What was your plan?”

He shrugs. “Ask around? See if anyone recognizes his description, check the area for blood? I don’t know, at this point I just need to figure out _how_ to proceed.”

They both do.

 

* * *

  


It’s a respectable establishment, Redcheek’s, nestled in the cramped parts of the city. Not the sort of place he’d expect a vampire to be hunting — they favor places like the bar across the boulevard, where people like to get blackout drunk so they can be taken somewhere quiet and alone.

Barry sticks out in his sweatshirt, tugging his red hood up both against the night’s chill and to avoid prying gazes. He knows, objectively, that people are unlikely to _care,_ but catching one man’s eye makes his heart race in a nervous manner.

He especially sticks out next to _Kravitz,_ dressed in a button up with his dreadlocks tied back, straight-backed and square-shoudered. “Why don’t you ask around,” Kravitz suggests, “you know Taako better than I do. I’ll try to get a read on the place.” He flexes his finers, and Barry can feel the charge of magic in the air.

He’d been planning to advise the opposite, but Kravitz makes a good point. Of the two of them, Barry actually knows who they’re looking for. So he nods, and the two part ways.

The bar is pretty busy, and no one is very happy to entertain Barry until he orders something. He has no plans to drink, but offers an up-front, generous tip in exchange for the questions he poses.

“Sounds familiar,” the bartender admits. She’s a short woman, with a friendly face. “I think I saw that fella. He wasn’t wearing a glittering skirt, was he?”

“That sounds like him.” Barry’s heart thumps a little harder. “Was he with anyone?”

“Mmm-hmm, he was…” she trails off, fixing Barry with a hard look. “Who’s he to ya?”

“My girlfriend’s brother, my friend,” Barry lists off, impatient. “I’ve got pictures of the two of us if that's what you need.”

“That’d be great, actually!” She leans back, waiting as Barry yanks his phone out. On any other day, he’d respect her protecting Taako, but right now it’s has his hands shaking with anxiety.

He finds the picture. The two of them are fishing, even though Barry _hates_ fishing. Taako’s taken a selfie of the two of them with Barry’s phone, winking at the camera with his tongue out while Barry flashes a cheesy grin at his side.

It softens her up. “Alright. Yeah, he was with he soulmate, I’d reckon, the two of them were two peas in a pod. Guy had blue hair, some _real_ flashy clothes, tall. Seemed like a friendly guy, though he kept flirting with the bartenders. I _think_ I saw ‘em heading for the back door.” She props her jaw in her palm, giving Barry a concerned look. “Why’re you looking for him, anyway?”

Barry sighs, rubs his forehead. “He’s missing. We don’t — we don’t know if it’s because of that guy —” though Barry’s completely certain it is, “— but this is the last place we _know_ he went. So, thanks.”

“Anytime. I hope I helped.” Her voice is soft. “My name’s Noelle. You tell me if you find your boy, alright?”

Barry gives her a smile, and pushes away from the bar.

Kravitz finds him before he finds Kravitz. It’s an urgent hand clasping his arm, Kravitz’s head ducking down to look under Barry’s hood. “Definitely pinged undead in here,” he hisses. “But it disappeared.”

Barry bites back a curse. Vampires that are attuned to magic are the _worst_ of the worst. “Alright, but we gotta check out the back of this place. A bartender says she thinks she saw Taako heading out with some guy. Real flashy dresser.”

Kravitz’s face darkens. “That sounds like the one that got me. Mind, he was all torn up by then, but…”

Barry’s heart is pounding, foot tapping a nervous beat on the floor. “That — if he’s hurt, that might be a good thing. Maybe someone was able to get him away from Taako…” But that doesn’t explain where Taako is _now._ And Kravitz’s face doesn’t give him any extra hope. He shakes his head. “Come on.”

The two of them make their way for the back door. It creaks as they slip outside, bitter night air nipping his skin. It takes them out to an alley, open to the city streets on one end, housing garbage bins on the other. Barry flicks out a flashlight, shining the beam over the ground and walls, searching for spots of blood.

There’s a dark discoloration. Barry steps closer —

Stars burst in his vision. He registers the pain after, head having been slammed into the wall. The skin is scraped, heating as blood wells over his forehead. There’s a scruffle, a harsh breath he identifies as Kravitz.

Barry looks up, blinking hard in the darkness. There’s Kravitz, shoved up against the wall. And there’s a figure, hand at his neck, face obscured by a hood of their own as they snarl, _“Where is my brother!”_

An ordinary human would have been knocked out, or worse, from cracking their skull against brick. Barry, though, he wipes the blood off the bridge of his nose, scarlet smeared on his thumb darkening into black as he reaches to yank the knife from his belt. Red electricity sparks up the blade.

Kravitz is grappling with them, an attempt to reach for his own weapons earning him a slam against the wall and his arm shoved there too, a cry of pain wrenching from Kravitz’s throat. _“Tell me,”_ the vampire seethes, “or I’m going to fucking _kill_ you.”

And so distracted by their rage, they don’t notice Barry until he’s grabbed them by the arm, swinging them away from Kravitz and into the opposite wall, their hood falling away as he pins them by their shoulder and shoves the blade of his knife up against the side of their neck.

 _Her_ neck.

 _Lup’s_ neck.

Barry’s breath leaves him. Lup’s face is twisted, the brown of her eyes deepened into a violent red, mouth heavy with a set of curving fangs. Then the snarl fades from her face, blinking as their eyes meet. Confusion. Surprise.

Then there’s fury. Caught off guard, Barry does nothing to stop her as she twists his hand off of her shoulder, nails digging in until they draw blood, and her voice is something between anguish and fury as she’s shouting, _“You!_ You’re _sick,_ you’re fucking _depraved, what did you do to him, he trusted you,_ I _trusted you, I —”_

A shadow looms behind her. And Barry, without a thought, shoves her, hard. Her nails tear through his skin, and she staggers back. The rage she flashes at him pauses as she registers Kravitz’s presence, her eyes flick to Barry, to his knife.

Then she turns, and she runs. And Kravitz gives a shout, but Barry catches him before he can pursue her. For a moment, Kravitz seems like he’s going to shake himself loose, and then Barry’s knees give out.

Kravitz catches him. A curse in his breath, he eases Barry down to the ground, back against the wall, head in his hands.

It's Kravitz's turn to help him home. He's numb, watching the city lights flash through the window, blindly following Kravitz's lead, a hand on his back guiding him up the path to home. And it stays there, the two of them sitting at the foot of the stairs, the numbness opening up into an  _ache_ as his heart begins to process, to  _understand_ this new reality. 

_Lup._

Lup, who he’d met on a rainy day, whose touch is warmer than the sun’s, who looks at him like he’s precious, who bows goofy songs on her violin, who snorts when she laughs, who he loves, he _loved_ her, he still _does,_ and that’s gone now, that’s _ruined_.

She’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and that should have told him everything.

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's! Halloween! 
> 
> This will probably have a sequel or two. There are some threads that need tying and conflict that needs resolving. But for now, please let me know what you think!


End file.
